Lumos
by FidelitasInfinite
Summary: Clara and The Doctor set off to meet one of the most famous writer of our generation, J.K. Rowling; to give her hope, at a time when she had none. But they are quickly faced with a danger they had not expected: indeed, something terrifying is hiding in the thick mist which encompasses the town of Edinburgh. Filled with lots of Whoufflé!
1. Clara's Request

**Notes:**

**•** This story will be also pulished on archiveofourown and wattpad, under the same pseudo (fidelitasinfinite), so please do not report me for copying my own fanfic on the other websites haha, but if you see the story anywhere else with another name, please warn me !

**•** I took into account the minisodes "Clara and The TARDIS" and "The Ultimate Guide". If you haven't seen them, it's fine but I suggest you go watch them because they are really adorable and super short (approximately three minutes), plus you can easily find them on YouTube.

**•** The story is situated between "Nightmare in Silver" and "The Name of the Doctor".

**•** I really tried my best to respect the show AND the characters. By this, I mean that I tried to make it like a real Doctor Who episode.

**•** I think this is the the most important thing you should know: I am not a fluent english speaker. I am french, but studying english, and writing this story in english was kind of a challenge for me, to practice my writing and to prove something to myself, I guess! So, before posting it, I asked the wonderful **WhouffleFans** (Follow her Whoufflé account on Twitter! it's the best Whoufflé account ever, I promise!) to read it and to correct it, and without her you would probably be reading an awful story! I did try my best, but my style is still probably not great, so please don't be too harsh haha! But of course, if you see any mistake left, I would really appreciate if you could point it out to me (you can PM me, or leave a review!).

**•** If you haven't seen or read _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_, the story contains spoilers about the death of some characters. Yes, it's Harry Potter related, but I promise you,_ this is not a crossover_ ! (actually I was inspired by the episode "The Unicorn and the Wasp" -fourth series, episode 7-)

**•** All the sentences or phrases followed by a " * " are _not from me_, but from a Harry Potter book _or_ film! I quoted them on purpose, but I will let you decide if the characters did or not ;)

**DISCLAIMER:** I own nothing, everything belongs to the BBC, J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I do not make any profit from the publication of this text.

* * *

Chapter 1: Clara's Request

_"We do not need magic to transform our world. We carry all of the power we need inside ourselves already."_

– J.K. Rowling

Wednesday.

It was raining._ Again._ It had rained the whole week. Usually Clara didn't really mind the rain. When you live in England, you get used to it, and then you learn to love it, or hate it. Clara was one of the rare ones who had learned to love it. She loved falling asleep in her warm bed, listening to the sound of the water droplets pinging on the roof. When she was younger, she loved to spend her Sundays on the couch curled up in a wool blanket watching old films or reading a book and drinking a cup of tea.

But Angie and Artie, well, that was another problem. The kids were going insane. They spent their days pacing up and down in the house like caged lions. Angie was always complaining because her favorite TV show was on a hiatus, and Artie had broken his Xbox. They were arguing about who was going to get the computer, when Clara walked into their messy room.

"You've had it for two hours! It's my turn now, Angie!"

"Are you joking? You were on it all afternoon yesterday, while I was forced to make a soufflé with Clara!"

Clara was going to say something, but got interrupted by a strong thunderclap, followed quickly by lightening. All the lights in the room –and probably the whole house and neighborhood– suddenly switched off. The only light source left was the laptop' screen which still had some battery left.

Clara smirked. The electricity cut was very timely. She knew _exactly_ what to do.

As the kids both ran to fight for the computer, Clara grabbed it skillfully from Angie, and closed it firmly.

"That's it!" she shouted bossily, "No more computer for today."

"What?" they whimpered, "You can't do this Clara!"

"Oh, you think so? Then watch me." replied their nanny with a smile.

She marched out of the room, laptop in hand. She was not done with the children yet, but first, she needed to hide the laptop somewhere they would never find it. It might have seemed simple at first, but it was their house, not hers, and they knew it way better than she did. Clara was just about to climb on top of the refrigerator when she heard a noise.

A beautiful noise.

The noise of the universe and of all of space and time, her noise.

She looked out the window, and smiled with relief. Could you find a better place to hide something than a box that was bigger on the inside?

She rushed downstairs and opened the front door at lightening speed, ran outside without even taking an umbrella and pulled on the TARDIS door. She tugged and tugged but unfortunately the TARDIS was content to watch her get soaked. By the time the Doctor opened it, she was shivering from head to toe. When the door finally opened, Clara walked right past the Doctor and headed straight for the console:

"Do you think it's funny?!" she shouted to the machine. "Now I'm drenched ! But that's exactly what you wanted, right? Why are you so mean to me, I've done nothing to you! I did NOT know that you were bigger on the inside when I called you a snog box, jeez!"

"Clara, why are you carrying a laptop?" asked the Doctor, he was slightly upset at being ignored. He was expecting a hug!

"Doctor!" Clara said.

"Yes! I'm still here !" he replied with a grin. She was so funny when she was irritated.

"Sorry," she muttered as she nodded at the computer with her head. "Arms full. No hug yet. Where can I hide this evil thing in your _evil_ –she looked at the console again– spaceship?"

"Why would you hide a laptop on the TARDIS?"

"I just want to keep it from the kids for awhile. They won't stop arguing over it."

"Well, you could hide it in your bedroom."

"Are you sure thats a good idea? The TARDIS hates me, and she always hides my bedroom. Angie and Artie would kill me if I didn't give them their computer back eventually, especially this one, since you... tinkered with it, or, whatever."

"Nah, trust me, the TARDIS doesn't like you, but she's a good girl, she won't steal your laptop... I mean, the kids' laptop... If it was yours..."

"I knew it. Come with me, just in case. She won't do anything as long as you're there."

"I know," he smirked by giving the TARDIS a little tap on the console which replied with innocent mechanical noises.

Clara raised her eyes with exasperation, and walked through the corridor, followed by the Doctor. They found her room –a small space with only one small bed– without any trouble, and she put the laptop under the blanket. She really wasn't worried about the kids finding it, because they would not be getting on the TARDIS any time soon.

"It is okay? Can we go now ?" asked the Doctor, getting impatient.

"I just have one more thing to do, and then I'm all yours !" replied Clara while running to the TARDIS doors.

The Doctor followed her, curious about was she was up to. He loved Clara for this, she was always surprising him, even the little things she did without really noticing, like biting her lips, well, he _always_ noticed that. After all, she was his impossible girl.

They entered the house, Clara even more soaked than before. She went upstairs, straight to the kid's bedroom. They were both sitting on a bed, looking at their feet and visibly dying of boredom. When they saw the Doctor was with Clara, they immediately got up and started screaming :

"Doctor !"

"Doctor, tell her to give it back to us!"

"Please Doctor!"

"She'll listen to you!"

"You're her boyfriend! Come on Doctor, do something!"

The Doctor, who was totally taken by surprise, looked at both of the children with panic, luckily for him Clara already had a plan. He may be very good at stopping aliens, but human kids were more complicated for him, especially the Maitlands.

"Alright," she started, "Listen to me, there is no electricity anyway, so you're stuck here without a screen. And you still have no idea what to do? Come on! Look; –she pointed at their bookcase which was completely full– all of these books you haven't read yet! You have a whole world to explore, you just have to open a book! Here, Angie, you haven't read_ Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ yet, am I right?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Here!" said Clara by taking the enormous book from the library and thrusting it into Angie's arms. "I read it in three days, try to beat me." she told her with a wink. "And you Artie. You stopped at the fourth book, it's a shame. You're British, for god's sake!" she took the book and gave it to the little boy who stared at it with wide eyes.

"Three days, really?" asked Angie. "I didn't knew you were such a nerd."

Clara suddenly froze, and replied gently with the sweetest smile the Doctor ever saw :

"You know Angie, you don't need to be a nerd to love great stories. Stories are amazing. They not only distract you, they change you, as a person. You're not just reading them, you're living them, with the characters. You laugh with them, you cry with them, and sometimes, you grow up with them. And when you close a book, you feel the emptiness of their absence. But that's okay. Because you can open the book and find them again. You'll just know them better than the first time around. Or, you can open another book, with other different characters, and start a whole new journey. It's your choice really."

Clara had taken Angie and Artie's breath away. They were both looking back and forth between Clara and the book in awe. The Doctor gazed at her for a moment before breaking the silence:

"Okay! Off we go, Clara?" he said, by reaching out for her hand.

Clara turned around. They smiled at each other, and she took the hand he was holding out to her.

Hers seemed so small in his, but it fitted like a missing piece to a puzzle. She needed him to feel safe, and he needed her to not fall apart.

"I'll be back for tea." she dictated to Artie and Angie.

The kids nodded, even if they knew she was leaving for way longer.

* * *

"So! Where do you want to go this time?" asked the Doctor, once Clara had changed her wet clothes into the first thing she'd found in her suitcase, a little woollen peach dress with a round neck and long sleeves.

Clara remained silent. Actually, for once, she had a slight idea in mind, but she didn't dare say it out loud to the Doctor. She was slightly afraid that he might make fun of her. She avoided his gaze awkwardly, hoping he would pick a destination himself and not see that she was embarrassed...

"You've got something on your mind." he remarked, frowning at her. "I can see it."

_Damn._

"No, no, it's just that I... I..." she started, but she really had no idea how to explain what she wanted without sounding dumb.

The Doctor walked towards her slowly and tilted his head down to look at her, she wasn't looking him in the eye so he gently took her chin between his forefinger and thumb, forcing her to look at him. He had a sweet smile on the corner of his mouth.

"Or should I say... Who do you want to meet ?"

Clara took a deep breath, and the response escaped her lips before she could stop it:

"_J.K. Rowling._ I want to meet J.K. Rowling."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows with an obviously surprised look. Clara bit her lower lip, immediately regretting what she had just said. Now he was going to think of her as an eight years old girl.

"Okay", said the Doctor, "but may I ask... why ?"

That was probably the part she dreaded the most. Clara really had good reasons for wanting to meet the famous writer, but explaining them would be hard. It was going to bring back some really bad memories, but she didn't really have a choice. She had to tell him.

She leaned forward, her body against the corner of the console, a hand pressed on either side and begun:

"My mum used to read me the Harry Potter books, when I was a kid. I mean, the first one. It was always this one, because I loved it so much that I didn't even want to know what was going to happen next, which was really silly of me." she paused to have a nervous laugh, and went on:

"I was sixteen when she died. I was devastated, like anyone would be at losing their Mum. I'd never felt so alone in my entire life. Of course, I had my dad, and some really good friends, but all they did was ask ; 'Are you okay, Clara ?' and I used to respond ; 'Yeah, don't worry, I'm good, thanks.'." she turned back and looked at all the little flashing buttons on the console, which was unusually quiet. The TARDIS was listening, which seemed really strange to the young woman.

"I don't blame them though, they were just worried about me, and trying to be nice... Anyway, then I opened her books. J.K. Rowling took me into another world. It was the only thing that made me forget my sadness, for a bit. And I felt so close to Harry, who had lost both of his parents at birth, and then to her, when I learned that her mother died too, and that it completely destroyed her. She even suffered from depression, because she was nearly homeless, and... You know, I just want to... I just want to..."

The words were stuck in her throat.

« _Don't cry-don't cry-don't cry-don't cry_,_ oh my God, don't cry in front of him ! »_ she said to herself.

"She gave you hope when you were hopeless, and you want to do the same thing for her." spoke the Doctor.

Clara suddenly looked up at him gratefully. He wasn't laughing. He understood. And he was watching her like she was the biggest mystery he had ever been confronted with.

"What?" Clara nervously giggled, hoping he wouldn't pay attention to her tear filled eyes.

"Humans. Lonelier around people than in a library." he sighed.

"It makes sense, right?" she joked.

The Doctor simply smiled, then asked:

"Where? When?"

"I think she lived in Leith, Edinburgh's port, in Scotland. I'd say... year 1995."

"Let's go then! Edinburgh, 1995, and good old J.K... _something wicked this way comes._" he added, pulling one of the levers on the console.


	2. A Strange Encounter

Chapter 2: A Strange Encounter

"Here we are!" yelled the Doctor before opening the TARDIS doors and stepping outside, Clara behind him.

"Wow." mumbled the brunette, rubbing her hands on her arms.

"Wow." repeated the Doctor.

"I've never seen fog so thick! Even in London. We can't even tell what time it is!" Clara remarked as her teeth started to chatter.

Indeed, she couldn't see further than the tip of her nose, and it was so cold that she felt like the fog was slipping through her clothes and skin, straight in her bones. A shiver travelled from her spine to her neck and shoulders, on which waved her now damp hair.

"I'm freezing." she commented, mostly for conversation than to complain. "I should have taken a coat."

_« And put jeans on, instead of this stupid dress! » _she added to herself while throwing a glance at her shaking legs, protected only by thin transparent tights.

"Can't you get one in the TARDIS's dressing room ?"

"I wish I could," Clara replied sarcastically, "but she doesn't like me, and never let me find it– what are you doing?" she asked, narrowing her eyes when she saw the Doctor taking off his own jacket.

"Here," he said merely, handing it to her without even looking. "Take mine."

"But..." she protested, "What about you?"

"I'm going to be fine. I have two hearts to keep me warm. You only have one."

Clara blinked at him then silently took the purple jacket. Even though she was chilled to the bone, she didn't want to take it from him and leave him coatless but she had no idea how to respond to his argument. She wasn't even sure if two hearts could keep a body warmer than only one, or if he was lying so she wouldn't worry. She had been such a failure in science class. Clara swore to herself that she would Google it as soon as she got home.

Instead she said thank you and pulled the jacket on, snuggling into its warmth. It was way too large for her, and came down almost to her knees. But it still had the Doctors warmth and she immediately started to feel better.

"So! Where do you think we can find J.K.?" he asked with an enthusiastic smile, rubbing his hands together.

"Apart from Leith, I have no idea. I just know she lived somewhere around here, and she used to write in a Café when her daughter was asleep..."

"Do you remember the name of the Café?"

"Nope."

"Great."

"_You're_ the Time Lord here, _you're_ supposed to know everything!"

The Doctor opened his mouth to reply, but Clara changed the subject and cut him off:

"It doesn't matter, we should just ask someone... This man for example." she said, pointing to a man who was passing by. "_Hey!_" she shouted while walking up to him, "Excuse me, sir..."

The old man gasped when Clara put her hand on his arm. He whirled around quickly and sighed with relief when he saw the pretty, smiley girl who was standing in front of him.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but my friend and I are looking for someone; do you know Joanne Rowling ?"

"No. Sorry miss, doesn't ring a bell."

The Doctor came closer and stood behind Clara. He observed the man. He spoke very rapidly, as if he was in a hurry. And, even if he seemed pleased to talk to the young woman, he had something unusual in his eyes.

_« Sadness? »_ wondered the Doctor. _« Or... __**Fear?**_ _»_

"She's approximately twenty years old, and has a very young daughter. She's always writing in a bar... Does that remind you of anyone?" Clara said. She hadn't yet noticed the mans odd behavior.

"No," mumbled the man. "I'm really sorry miss, but I have to go..."

He turned back and began to walk away rapidly.

"Where ?" shouted the Doctor suddenly, moving to stand in front of Clara.

The old man stopped, his back to them.

"Doctor," whispered Clara, "In case you didn't knew, it is very uncivilized to ask people you've never meet before where they're–"

"Home." replied the stranger, still not looking at them.

"_Why?_ Why are you so eager to go home?" asked the Doctor, taking another step towards him.

"Are you and your girlfriend new in town?"

_« Ohh, __**great. **__»_ thought Clara, rolling her eyes. _« I'm just going to have to get used to it! »_

"Yes, we are." replied the Doctor who didn't even react. "Why? Is that important?"

She saw that the Doctor was putting himself in front of her, almost protectively and he seemed on the lookout. Nevertheless, the old man did not seem like he was going to harm them when he took a very long sigh, as if he felt very sorry for them, and finally turned around.

Clara stepped on her tiptoes to see over the Doctor's shoulder, and frowned. The old mans face suddenly seemed impossibly older, and even more tired.

"Then go. You should get away from here. This is not a place for a young couple like you two."

"Why?" Clara asked. She was beginning to get very concerned. "What's going on here?" she added, stepping around the Doctor, who had an annoying tendency to treat her like a doll made of porcelain.

This time, the elderly man started laughing. The Doctor stayed still while Clara –who thought it was actually quite creepy– looked nervously around to see if there was anyone else on the quiet little street, but they were alone.

"You...you really have no idea, do you?" asked the grey haired man between giggles.

The Time Lord did not answer, he just stared at him with a steely gaze, stern and unwavering. The poor old man immediately stopped laughing.

The Doctor hated not knowing something.

"Suicides." huffed the man. "It started two months ago. And it's getting worse and worse every day. More and more people die. And there's this fog... heavier every day. At first, it was only in Leigh, but now it's spreading all over the city. And the cold..." he paused. "I knew some of the people who died. They were good people. And they were happy. They had no reasons to kill themselves. Yet, they did."

"How many? How many suicides?"

"Thirty-one."

The Doctor's jaw clenched, and Clara let out a gasp before covering her mouth with the palm of her hand.

"That's impossible!" she whispered.

As she said those words, the Doctor turned to her and gave her one of his curious looks.

"What?" she asked louder.

He ignored her, and turned back to the old man.

"Alright, sir. Go home. Go home, and don't worry, because I am going to find out what is going on here, and let me tell you that when I do –_and oh, I will_–_,_ there will never be fog in Edinburgh ever again."

"But... who are you?" asked the man.

"I'm the Doctor, and this is Clara."

"Doctor who ?"

Clara smiled and took the Doctor's arm.

"Just the Doctor." she replied, as they disappeared into the mist like two ghosts.

* * *

Once they were sure they had left the old man behind, the Doctor got out his sonic screwdriver and started to sonic the fog.

"I knew it was alien! I'm sorry Clara, but our meeting with Mrs. Rowling will have to wait today."

"That's fine." replied Clara, who totally understood.

The Doctor looked at his screwdriver.

"Well, that's weird." he commented.

"What ?"

"It's not alien. The fog. It's the city."

"What do you mean _it's the city_?"

"The whole city is dying. Roads, flats, buildings, everything!"

"But... it's just weather!"

"Clara, why do you think there's fog in cemeteries?"

His companion opened her eyes wide.

"Okay," she gulped. "That's freaky."

The Doctor smirked.

"Are you scared, Clara ?"

"Of course not. There is just some kind of terrifying force that makes people kill themselves and creates the thickest fog I've ever seen, and you just said the whole city was dying, but..."

Clara suddenly stopped talking, watching something behind the Doctor's shoulder. A dark form was heading towards them. It was too tall to be human, approximately ten feet high. Entirely covered in a dark hooded cloak made of long, ripped black cloth, making it resemble a wraith; she couldn't see its face, even though it was coming closer... and it wasn't walking. It was _gliding_ silently, a few centimetres above the ground, like a shadow that had lost its owner. Clara felt an intense cold sweep over her despite the Doctor's jacket, and her own breath was catching in her chest. A violent thrill shook her. She had already seen this creature somewhere. _But it couldn't be real..._

The Doctor hadn't even noticed yet, and kept going:

"Exactly! But I'm going to find that alien, and..."

"Doctor?"

The cold was inside Clara's very heart. She was drowning in it, all the colours seemed to fade away.

"...you will meet J.K. Rowling Clara, I promise! But first, we just need to..."

"Doctor..."

It had seen them. It was only a few meters away. Clara was paralysed. She couldn't even hear what the Doctor were saying. There was only her, and the creature.

"...figure out what's happening there because if she lives here like you said, she's in danger too, like everyone in this town, and we can't let something happen to that woman who gave so much hope to children, teenagers, and even adults, all over the world and..."

"DOCTOR!" Clara cried, pointing at the dark form in front of her.

The Doctor whirled around to see what Clara was shouting about. Because, indeed, she sounded terrified. He realised he had never seen so much fear in her wide brown eyes which were usually so warm, and now seemed frozen.

The creature had stopped moving when the Doctor turned around. It was just looking at them, they could _feel_ it, even if they couldn't see its face –well, if it actually had a face– under the hood, its head was clearly turned towards them.

Suddenly, something glistening, slimy-looking, greyish and scabbed protruded from the cloak.

Clara retched when she finally understood it was a hand. It looked like something that had been decaying for many years. Then she realised that the creature was pointing a long and bony finger at them.

"It's pointing as us...why is it pointing at us?" she sobbed.

"Clara?" asked the Doctor, taking a step back while it was drawing a long, rattling breath.

"Yes?" replied the girl, mirroring him.

"Are you wearing heels?"

Clara glanced helplessly at her own feet.

"Four inches." "Why?"

"Nothing... I just hope you can run fast in them."

Then without giving her time to react, the Doctor whirled around and tightly grabbed Clara's hand before breaking into an unrestrained run. She let him guide her, as she was unable to think properly while trying to run as fast as him, but her legs were so smaller! She didn't dare look back. She felt the presence of the creature behind them, and all she wanted right now was to get away from it. The fog was still so thick they couldn't see where they were going, and it seemed like they were trapped in it. She tried to look around while running, to see if there were any places they could hide, but all the flats seemed empty from the outside. She was starting to feel tired, and she knew she would not be able to keep on for much longer. She started to slow down, hoping that maybe they had outdistanced it, when she suddenly felt a frozen breath on her neck. She turned around, to discover the creature's hidden face only a few centimetres from hers, and the putrid smell that was escaping from it made her retch again.

She let out a terrified scream. The Doctor pressed her hand in his as he dragged her along.

"It's going to eat us! It's going to eat us!" she cried.

"If only you didn't wear heels all the time!" he yelled back.

"It's not my fault I'm small!" replied Clara angrily–who did not like remarks about her height– with the little breath she had left.

At the moment that she thought everything was lost, the Doctor turned left and pushed open the door of a bar. She felt the warm atmosphere pour inside of her as he pulled her through. She collapsed onto his chest and clung to him as tears of relief streamed down her face. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her tightly to him.

"Clara," whispered the Doctor hoarsely, "Shh, I've got you, I've got you. It's gone. It's okay, it won't touch you. I'm right here."

Clara could feel him softly kissing the top of her head repeatedly. She took a deep breath and finally let go of him. She looked feverishly around to see that they were in a little Café, poorly lit, but cozy. There were not many people, just an old couple reading the newspaper, and in the corner a dark haired woman who was scribbling something in a notebook. The man behind the bar was staring at them with a very shocked expression on his face. The Doctor noticed, and explained with a big smile:

"Pigeons! My friend has always had a dreadful fear of pigeons! Right, Clara?"

Clara, who was still in shock awkwardly stammered:

"Y-yes... I-I hate them..."

"We'll take two hot chocolates!" ordered the Doctor. Taking Clara's hand and leading her to a secluded table.

Clara flopped herself on the chair in front of him. Her elbows on the table, she put her head in her hands, running her fingers through her hair.

"What was that?" she asked, controlling her voice, her eyes fixed on the varnished wood of the table.

"Well, I think we found the alien." replied the Doctor, leaning towards her.

"No. I mean what kind of alien is it?" she insisted, closing her eyes, then reopening them immediately, because all she could see was the creatures hooded face in front of her.

"I think you know exactly what it was, Clara." the Doctor stated seriously.

She let her hands drop to her sides, she lifted her head up and jumped, not expecting the Doctor's face to be so close to hers. She shook her head slowly.

"It can't be. It just can't. Doctor, it can't be an actual _Dementor!_"

The Doctor just stared at her with a steady gaze, and remained silent.

"No." she persisted, "It's _**not**_ possible."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Her fear seemed to be appeased, but something else was bothering her.

"Are you _angry?_" he asked.

She sighed and gestured helplessly before enumerating :

"Centaurs. Giants. Unicorns. Goblins. Nargles. Little cute House-Elves. Phoenixes. Hippogriffs. Mermaids. Dragons. And we get a freaking _Dementor_!" she fumed. "This is the _worst_ creature _ever_!"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows, too surprised to laugh, but a half-smile quickly appeared on his face.

Luckily for him, Clara wasn't paying attention. She thought for a moment and then finally asked:

"How bad are they? I mean, are they exactly like in the books?"

"Well... A Dementor is a dark, very dark creature, considered one of the foulest to inhabit the universe. They come from a planet called Nebula, where everything is nothing, where light and colours don't exist, which is why they're blind, but they have the ability to _feel_ us, our emotions, and the warmth of our bodies, which is probably worse than been able to see us because our emotions, are stronger than our looks or bodies, and they make us... appetizing. They feed off other people's–not necessarily humans– happiness, and cause depression and despair to anyone near them. Oh, and, they can also consume a person's soul, leaving their victims in a permanent vegetative state: it's called the Dementor's kiss. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just... exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever…lost. They consume the energy of all the days you had, all your stolen moments. But I assume you already know that. It's very joyful, as you know."

"Yes, it sounds very friendly, indeed... Splendid. It's like you've picked up a line from the books." sighed Clara by snapping her fingers at the words "picked up".

"Except that this isn't a creature from a magical world here, Clara. It's an alien, and a _nasty one_."

"But how did they came here? With a... flying saucer, or something?" she asked, curiosity filling her eyes.

"No, they don't use spaceships. It's their particularity, they don't travel, they create themselves through the minds of other living creatures, including humans, apparently. They use someone's thoughts and conscious. Only a very clever, and imaginative person would have the ability to imagine them. It could be anyone, an eighty year old man, a child, a middle aged woman..."

"J.K. Rowling. She lives here, and she's the one who invented them. They came through her." Clara said simply, realizing how obvious it was.

The bartender appeared and placed two steaming mugs in front of them. The sweet smell of the liquid tickled Clara's nostrils. She looked down into the cup.

"Hot chocolate..." she muttered. "Is it for...?"

The Doctor smiled, proud of his companion's vivacity.

"Yeah! Chocolate has unbelievable virtues. Well, actually it's not really the chocolate, to be more precise it's the sugar and the endorphins in it, the fact that they're in the chocolate is just a happy accident!"

"Since I'm traveling with you, you may need to know I was a mess in biology. Still am."

Not that she thought she needed something stronger than hot chocolate to recover from this dreadful experience, but still.

"The sugar may reduce stress, and have a calming and pain relieving effect, but endorphins are related to pleasure, happiness." explained the Doctor. "For example, when you're in love, your body creates endorphins. Which is why you're all... cheesy." he added with a face, remembering how Amy and Rory were always snogging. "And, you know, love is one of a Dementor's worst enemies..."

"Actually, I thought it was a Patronus spell." replied Clara, taking a sip of her hot chocolate; which she found warming, as it seemed to burn away a little of the fear still fluttering in her chest.

The Doctor chuckled.

"As I told you, this is not a magical creature. No spells."

She sighed and bit her lower lip, without noticing how the Doctor's eyes lingered unconsciously on her mouth.

"Sad. I've always wanted to cast a spell... So how do we get rid of it?"

He didn't answer immediately, staring at her mouth, the way her lips moved when she spoke and how full her bottom lip was, it was almost hypnotizing… He shook his head like a dog in water and smoothed back his hair before answering:

"Not it, _them_. They never travel to a planet alone." "And I really have no idea yet."

"But you just said love was _one_ of their worst enemies... what are the others?"

"Well, there's light. They can't handle light, and warmth, so fire, and there's also–"

"Excuse me?" asked a female voice.

Clara turned around to see who had interrupted the Doctor, and nearly choked.

She looked tired, really tired, but she had the same smart look that Clara had always seen in the pictures. Clara had expected her to be blonde, but she was actually dark haired. She had pale skin and dark circles around her eyes, next to her, a little girl with angelic brown curls was asleep in her pushchair.

"Oh my stars..." whispered Clara to herself before suddenly forgetting how to speak.


	3. The Weakness of the Doctor

Chapter 3: The Weakness of the Doctor

She looked at the Doctor with panic. He obviously didn't recognize her, but when Clara glared at him, he quickly understood.

"Yes?" he asked, drawing himself up on his chair.

"I'm really sorry to bother you, but my pencil just broke, and I was writing something important... Could you lend me one?" she asked politely.

"Oh! Yeah, of course!" replied the Doctor, moving to search his pockets then realising he wasn't wearing his coat.

"Clara, could you check inside my pockets, please? There must be a pen in there somewhere."

Clara immediately began to search in his jacket.

"Damn," she mumbled, "even your pockets are bigger on the inside."

"What's bigger on the inside?" asked the dark haired woman.

Clara looked up at her with admiration.

"N-nothing... It's just... You know, sometimes, some things, or even people, seem bigger on the inside... _kinda like magic_."

She saw the Doctor smirking from the corner of her eye. The woman looked at her, confused.

Clara triumphantly pulled something out from one of the Doctor's pockets, thinking it was probably a pen.

"Oh whoops!" she giggled, it was actually a pair of round reading glasses, definitely not a pen.

The Doctor froze. He just stared at Amy's glasses which he had carefully been keeping in his pocket, held in Clara's fragile hands.

Clara didn't know Amy, in fact, she didn't know a lot about the Doctor, but they reminded her so much of a little boy who lived in a cupboard that she couldn't resist and quickly sneaked a look at the woman's face. The writer was gazing at the glasses, her eyes wide. She looked at them for a few seconds, then back over at her notebook. Clara hurriedly put down the glasses and started searching for a pen again. She finally found it, after awkwardly pulling out a Barbie doll, an old broken mobile phone from 2006 and a ring from the Doctor's pockets.

"Here," said Clara, giving her the pencil. "So what are you writing?" she asked after J. K. Rowling thanked her.

"Oh, nothing much, just some ideas. I probably won't even publish them."

"Don't say that!" said Clara, perhaps a little bit too loud. "I'm sure it's great! Is it an article, or, I don't know, maybe _a novel_?" she whispered excitedly.

"Yes, yes it's a novel, actually. For children."

"Really? That's brilliant! I love children's books."

"You do?" she laughed.

"Yes! What's your name? I'm going to buy your book as soon as it gets published!"

The woman's smile grew larger.

"I doubt it will be published... but I felt the need to write it anyway. And my name is Joanne, Joanne Rowling, but you can call me Jo."

The Doctor looked fondly at Clara's happy face. She'd gotten what she wanted, after all. She was giving hope to a great woman. And she looked so starstruck about it that it was touching.

"Nice to meet you, Jo. I'm Clara, Clara Oswald, and this is the Doctor."

The Doctor smiled and nodded at the author.

"The Doctor?" asked Joanne with an uncertain look. "Are you here for the... well, you know what is happening..."

Clara glanced discreetly at him from the corner of her eye.

"Yes, that's exactly why I'm here. How did you know?"

"Oh, you're not the first to come. But the others... they just disappeared. We don't know what happened to them, so please, leave before it's too late..."

"Oh, well, you know, I don't go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me.._.*_" the Doctor replied with a grin.

A small crooked smile appeared on Clara's face.

"Just be careful." said Joanne.

She made a step towards her table, when suddenly a little girl's voice came out of nowhere:

"Mummy, who are these people?"

It was Jo's daughter, who had just woken up in her pushchair.

"Oh, Jessica, you're awake!" "Well, this is Clara, and this is the Doctor."

"Hello Jessica!" said Clara, leaning over and waving to the little girl. "Did you sleep well?"

"No." replied the little girl.

Clara's friendly smile faded.

"Really?" she asked. "Why? Are you having nightmares?"

"Yes."

"What kind of nightmares?" asked the Doctor.

"The shadow. It wants to eat me."

Clara turned slowly to the Doctor. They shared a worried look, and Joanne seemed very uncomfortable.

"They're just bad dreams, sweetheart. Nothing more. Don't worry, mummy will always be here. The shadow won't touch you."

Clara smiled wistfully. Jo reminded her so much of her own mother.

"I want to go home..." cried the little girl, rubbing her eyes.

"Okay, we're going home sweetie." replied her mum gently. "Here," she added, handing the pencil that Clara had given her back to the Doctor, "I'm sorry, all this for nothing!"

"Oh, you can keep it," said the Doctor "Clara and I will be very happy to know you're writing with a pen we gave you, right Clara?"

"Of course!" she said. And then she smiled, not at the author, but at the Time Lord.

"Oh, well, thank you! It was really nice to meet you both. And good luck, Doctor!" replied Joanne, walking towards the door which soon closed behind her.

Once she was gone, Clara looked at the Doctor for a moment, before finally saying:

"We've meet her. Doctor, we've meet J.K. Rowling!"

"I know."

"She's such a great woman... but she doesn't look that depressed. Don't you think?"

"Well," answered the Doctor, "sometimes the saddest people smile the brightest."

Clara tilted her head to one side while looking at him, and murmured in a faraway voice:

"Like you, for example."

He slowly looked up at her and then leaned his head back.

"What makes you think that I'm sad?" he asked carefully.

"Well... You were alone when you found me, but I know you've not always been that way. If you're really 900 years old, you've been travelling for a very long time... Nobody can travel alone that long. And all the places you've been, all those dangerous places, somebody had to save your life, from time to time. We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided_*, _right? And there is all this stuff you keep in your pockets, or even in some rooms of the TARDIS..." her voice suddenly became very sweet. "You keep them to remember people you've lost, don't you?"

Okay, she was smart. She was so, _so_ smart.

"I won't let anything happen to you, Clara."

"That's not the point."

"Yes, yes that is the point! I've lost so many people, you know that, and look at you, you're here, drinking a hot chocolate with me. You are not going to end up on the infinite list of people I have lost. I brought you with me to keep you safe, and I _will_ keep you safe. That's a promise." he insisted.

"But I'm _not scared!_" exclaimed Clara.

The Doctor did not have time to answer. A female scream sounded outside.

They both got up at the same time, Clara still with her mug in her hand, and rushed out onto the foggy street. She felt the intense cold again. They looked left and right: at the corner of the street, they could barely make out what was happening but they could see a tall, dark form, was leaning dangerously towards a smaller one. A woman.

With a pushchair.

"Jo!" yelled Clara, running straight towards her.

The Doctor followed quickly, but when they arrived, Clara skidded to a stop. The creature was no longer looking at the woman any more, it was looking at her.

"Run!" she whispered, too paralysed to scream.

The Dementor seemed smaller than the one earlier. It was still terrifying, but there was something different about it, Clara was sure of that. And she could see that it did not want the Doctor. It did not want the writer or the child. _It wanted her_.

"But what about you?" asked Joanne, who had apparently noticed the creature's interest in Clara.

"I'm... I'm just going to..." she stammered with a lump in her throat.

"We need a weapon…." thought the Doctor out loud. "Weapon-weapon-weapon-weapon-weapon..." he mumbled, looking around him to see if there was anything he could use against the creature, knowing that the sonic was useless.

"_Weapon!_" he shouted when his eyes rested on the half-full cup of hot chocolate Clara was still holding. He snatched it from her and splashed the Dementor with the burning liquid.

A sharp sound came out of the alien who retracted on itself, obviously in pain.

"I thought you were against weapons." commented Clara.

"Since when is hot chocolate a weapon?"

"But you just said–"

"It won't last long," cut the Doctor, "so I suggest we run!"

"Agreed!" replied Clara, running after him and Joanne, terribly regretting her choice of footwear for the day.

They ran away as fast as they could, but Jo had left the pushchair and was carrying her daughter in her arms, it wasn't long before she got tired.

"This way!" she said, turning right. "My flat is not too far away from here, we'll be safe in it!"

They followed her, slowing down. The Dementor seemed to be falling behind, but Clara kept looking behind her shoulder. She was afraid it was closer than they thought, hidden somewhere in the mist.

Joanne flung open the front door to a little block of flats, and beckoned them to enter. Clara threw a glance at the building before stepping in. It wasn't very big, and looked especially gloomy. It was built with greyish stones, and the windows were probably too tiny to let enough light in.

Clara lingered too long, so the Doctor grabbed her hand and pulled her inside. He didn't let go of her hand after, and she didn't let go either. Holding her hand had become so natural to him. He wondered if she even noticed, she seemed too busy looking at every little detail around her. She reminded him a bit of Amy, when they were in Van Gogh's cottage. He let himself smile at the thought.

They followed Joanne up the narrow staircase, until they finally stopped on the fourth floor, and she took out her keys to open the door.

"Come on in..." she said.

Clara did not make her say it twice, and walked inside with delight.

The apartment reflected the building. Clara's first impression of the windows were right, the room was not light enough, especially with the mist outside which did not let a ray of sunshine pass. The furniture and decorations were very humble; just the necessary. It was small, but cozy.

"Shh, shh, it's fine, we're home." said Joanne to her daughter while cradling her softly, sitting on the couch.

"Is she alright ?" asked Clara shyly.

"No. Of course she's not alright! Did you see what just happened?"

"I... Yeah, sorry."

She let go of the Doctor's hand to push a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Have you got any chocolate, here?" he asked, comfortably opening drawers in the little kitchen which was attached to the living room.

"Probably, but why do you need chocolate?"

"I don't, but I think your daughter does!"

"Why?"

"Chocolate is good!" replied the Doctor who hated to repeat himself. "Oh, I found it!" he added, pulling out a chocolate bar and looking at it as if it were gold.

"He said it's because it contains endorphins, which help to deal with sadness. Apparently, when you feel love, your body secretes endorphins. That's all I understood." explained Clara.

He broke two squares off the chocolate, and handed them to the woman.

"And I believe you need one too." he said in a very serious voice.

She watched him for a moment, without moving. After all, he was a stranger. She had every reason not to trust him. And yet, she slowly took the pieces of chocolate he was holding out to her and gave one to her daughter.

"Eat this, sweetie, the Doctor says it will be good for you."

Because you never have to ask a child twice to eat chocolate, the little girl took it and swallowed it immediately. A few minutes later, she calmed down and finally stopped crying.

"Do you feel better?" asked her mum.

"Yes. You should eat yours too, mummy."

Joanne smiled and ate her square of chocolate, then turned towards Clara and the Doctor.

"I'm sorry, but I realised I didn't thank you... So, thank you, both of you. I don't know what would have happened earlier if you weren't there. And, thanks for the chocolate tip, Doctor."

He smiled.

"Just doing my job."

"I don't like you." said a little voice.

"Jessica!" scolded her mum.

The Doctor jumped. The little girl was looking at him.

"What do you mean you don't like me?" he asked, outraged. "Kids always like me! And I've just given you chocolate! See? I'm nice!"

"You knew the hot chocolate was going to hurt the monster, only another monster could know that. You're a monster too."

"He's no monster!" protested Clara.

"How old is she?" he asked.

"She's three, I'm sorry..."

He beckoned her to be quiet, and stepped towards the little girl.

"Look at you..." he whispered with a big smile. "Look at you!" he laughed.

"Doctor?" asked Clara, frowning.

"Oh, you are _so_ clever!" he rejoiced. "Congratulations on your parenting, Jo!" he added.

"Thank you, but–"

He turned to Clara who was as lost as Joanne, put his hand on her fragile shoulders and shook her like a plum tree.

"They came through her! Through her mind! We always thought it was through Jo's imagination – a clever and imaginative person– but it's not! That's why she's having bad dreams, they're born from _her_ fears!"

He let go of Clara and turned back to the little girl.

"This little, tiny, harmless human!" he explained, pointing at her.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" asked Joanne.

"Get your daughter to sleep and I will explain to you, but first, Jessica," said the Doctor, kneeling to be her size "I promise you, I'll get rid of those nightmares. Trust me. _I'm the Doctor._"

He smiled, and the little girl smiled back. Clara looked at the Doctor with a proud little smile.

Jessica seemed to hesitate for a second, she looked over at Clara for a minute and then replied, pointing at her:

"If she trusts you, then I trust you too... And your chin is funny." she laughed, touching the Doctor's chin with the tip of her little finger.

Clara giggled as Joanne took her daughter in her arms.

"Give me five minutes." she said. "Don't escape!"

Clara raised her hands palms up.

"Not a chance!" she promised.

Once Joanne was gone, she turned to the Doctor:

"Are we going to tell her the truth? Like, _all _of the truth?" she questioned, keeping her voice low so Joanne wouldn't overhear.

"The truth." the Doctor sighed, sitting on the couch. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution."*

"It is my belief that the truth is generally preferable to lies."* replied Clara, sitting next to him.

"There's a difference between lying, and keeping secrets."

"I know... Secrets can keep people safe, but they can put them in danger too. They keep us apart from the people we love..."

He started at her, and she quickly looked over at him before innocently scanning the room. She finally broke the awkward silence by clearing her throat.

"Yes, we are going to tell her." the Doctor said finally. "She saw it anyway. It concerns Jessica, so she's not going to let that pass... And she's J.K. Rowling. If there is one person who can help us to deal with Dementors, it's her."

"But what about us? Can we tell her you're a Time Lord and that I'm... from the future?"

"We'll see. That's not the most important thing she needs to know right now..."

"What do I need to know?" asked the writer, coming back into the living room.

"Well..." started the Doctor by standing up, "first–"

"What was that thing?"

"It's called a _Dementor_." said Clara, getting up too. "It's not from Earth. It feeds off human happiness, and thus causes depression and despair to anyone near them."

"But... That's the monster in my daughter's nightmares! It's happening inside her head, it can't actually be real!"

"Of course it's happening inside her head, Jo! But why on earth should that mean that it isn't real?"* said the Doctor. "Even though it's true, and not everyone is able to see them. The people who _can_ see them are people who have known not only sadness but despair, the absence of being able to envisage that you will ever be cheerful again. The absence of hope. That very deadened feeling, which is so very different from feeling sad...* And that's why they are so dangerous here. A lot of people can't see them, so they can't escape. They just feel an unnatural cold, and the Dementors feed of their happy memories until none remain. That's why there are so many suicides in Edinburgh! They came through your daughter's bad dreams, and now, they're here, and once they have finished with Edinburgh, they will move on to another city, and another until they had fed off every single sliver of human happiness. That is how they survive!"

"Is he — a bit mad?" Jo asked Clara uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Clara airily. "He's a genius!" "But yes, he is a bit mad."* she added in a whisper.

"This isn't possible!" Joanne groaned, sitting in an old armchair.

"You saw the creature yourself!" protested the Doctor.

"This is a trick! I don't believe you, I can't believe you!"

"Oh, you believe me, because if you didn't you'd have already kicked us out. But you won't because you know it's still out there, and that we won't be safe."

She looked up at them.

"Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor, and this is Clara, my companion. By the way; I'm a Time Lord, and she's from the future."

"Now I am really going to kick you out."

Clara stood up in front of the Doctor, and recited:

"_Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much._"

"But... But that's... That's my... How do you..."

"I've defended the Stone, I found the Chamber, I freed the Prisoner, I was chosen by the Goblet, I fought alongside the Order, I learnt from the Prince, and I mastered the Hallows with Harry." explained Clara with a proud smile.

"You've read my books."

She was suddenly very pale.

"You've read _my books_ that I didn't write yet."

"Basically." said the Doctor with a shrug.

"Oh my God. I-I need a moment..."

She closed her eyes and rubbed her eyelids before taking a deep breath.

"Tell me more about these... things that upset my daughter."

"Dementors are among the foulest creatures in the universe, they infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them... Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself... soulless and evil. You will be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life–"*

"Doctor!" whispered Clara, giving him a nudge in the ribs.

Joanne did not look very well. She had put her face in her hands, and was shaking her head from left to right helplessly.

"So," she spoke nervously, "you're telling me that the worst creature of the universe is coming from my daughter's mind?"

Clara sighed. The Doctor could be so tactless sometimes... Every time. Always.

"Well..." he started, "...Yes."

"But what does that say about her?" cried Joanne. "That's she's unhappy? That I am an awful parent, is that what it says?"

"What?!" exclaimed the Doctor, "No! Of course not! It just says that your daughter has fears, like all children, and a wonderful imagination, just like her mother." he smiled.

She seemed somewhat comforted, but sighed and muttered:

"I'm not sure if it's all that wonderful..."

"Of course it is. It's one of the best things in the world."

Clara coughed.

"So what do we do about the Dementors? We can't just let them suck people's happiness day after day..."

"No. We can't." replied the Doctor.

"Do you have a plan?" Clara smiled.

"Yes!"

"And what's that?"

"I don't know yet."

The brunette let herself fall to the couch again. She didn't have even the slightest idea of what to do either, and they were stuck in J.K. Rowling's flat, which really wasn't that bad, except that they were far away from the TARDIS, and for once, Clara really wanted to be near that "sexy" old thing. She was feeling tired, and the sensation of warmth that the hot chocolate had given her was slowly starting to fade. The Doctor was pacing back and forth around the room and Joanne was still trying to comprehend what had happened.

_Clara..._

"Yes?" she asked.

Joanne and The Doctor looked at her in surprise.

"What?" said Clara, who was positive someone had called her name.

"Nobody called you." the Doctor explained.

"But I just heard..." she sighed. Maybe she was so tired, she was starting to hallucinate. "Whatever."

She didn't feel very well, actually. Her head and stomach were starting to hurt.

"Jo, sorry, could I use the restroom?" she asked in a small voice.

"Sure, it's the door next to Jessica's bedroom."

"Thank you." Clara replied politely before getting up.

Her head was spinning dangerously. She staggered and grabbed onto the corner of the sofa to catch herself from falling.

"Clara? What's wrong?" the Doctor asked, sounding very concerned.

"Nothing, I'm fine, I just... I must be a bit sick or something..." she muttered, trying to smile.

The Doctor frowned and gazed at her with a worried look.

"I'm _fine_ Doctor!" she assured.

To prove him right, she made three steps towards the bathroom door, but without warning her legs buckled and gave way beneath her. The Doctor, who hadn't stopped watching her for a second, skilfully caught her before she hit the floor.

"Clara!"

"What's happening to her?!" Joanne panicked, standing up abruptly.

The Doctor picked her up and gently laid her down on the couch. He took the sonic out of his jacket pocket before passing it over her face and chest.

"Her heart-beats are slow and her temperature is dropping! Something is weakening her!"

"But _what_?!"

"_I don't know!" _shouted the Doctor who was angry and a little bit scared. He wasn't used to feeling so powerless.

The scene was eerily similar to the one when she had died in London. It was happening again, he was going to lose his impossible girl one more time, and he didn't know if he could bare it.

_« I won't lose you again. _» he thought.

"Well, you're obviously not a Doctor," commented Joanne.

"Of course I am not a Doctor I'm _the_ Doctor!"

Clara could still hear them, and she was fighting to keep her eyes open, because as soon as she closed them, all that she saw was the Dementor's face closing in on hers. She could feel her blood growing colder in her veins, but it wasn't the kind of cold you endure in winter, when you wait for the bus in the evening, when the sun is already down and it starts to freeze. It was the kind of cold you feel when you're crying in your bed at night, thinking nobody will ever notice how hurt you are.

_Clara..._

"Doctor..." she whispered.

He leaned forward and touched her forehead, then smoothed his hand over her hair.

"Please Clara don't say it..."

"Say what?"

"Don't tell me to run."

"Why would I do that? You don't need to run, I'm right here_."_

He smiled, his eyes filled with water.

"Good. Good..."

He gently kissed her forehead and stroked her cheeks with his thumb.

_Clara..._

"Can you hear it?" she asked.

"What?"

"My name... Someone is calling my name!"

"Nobody is calling you, Clara."

"So... I'm hearing voices? Oh God no, hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, is it!"

"Who taught you that?!" asked the Doctor.

"She did!" replied Clara, pointing at Joanne Rowling.

"I did?" repeated the woman without understanding. "Oh right! I did..."

_Clara..._

"Doctor, voices or not, I am pretty sure someone's calling me."

"And I am definitely sure _no one_ is calling you, are you feeling better?"

"I need to look out the window. Help me getting up!"

"Why do you want to look out the window?" protested the Doctor.

Clara ignored him and got up on her elbows.

"Doctor..." Joanne said suddenly with a strained voice.

Both Clara and the Doctor stopped arguing and turned to her. She was looking at something.

_Out of the window._

The Doctor rushed over and Clara watched him freeze.

"Doctor... what is it?" she asked, too weak to get on her feet.

"Jo, give Clara some chocolate. _Quick."_

It was the Dementors. Clara knew it.

The Doctor turned to her.

"They're here."

"What's happening to me?" she yelled.

The Doctor did not reply. He gulped and ran his hand through his ruffled hair. He was worried.

_Clara..._

"They're calling me! Why are they calling me?" she asked. "Why am I the only one who can hear them?"

Jo gave her a large piece of chocolate. She ate it without protest, even though she felt sick to her stomach. Like the hot chocolate earlier, she felt a strange warmness in her stomach and bones. The cold was fading, but it was still there. She could feel a hole in her belly.

"Please, tell me I'm not going to spend the rest of my life eating chocolate on a couch," she said. "Not that it bothers me," she added with a shrug, "but–"

"She feels better." cut off the Doctor with a relieved smile.

Indeed, the lack of strength she had felt was gone. She got up on her feet and walked straight to the window.

She stumbled backwards when she finally saw what was outside.

Night had fallen, and it was dark. She looked out at the black sky, and there were no moon, no stars, they were all hidden by the fog and the clouds. The street lights were nearly all extinguished, except a few lamps which flickered dangerously, threatening to turn off too. All the way down the street, there were hundreds off Dementors, floating above the frozen ground. They were all turned towards the block of flats, as if they were waiting for something, and Clara, who did not have a very big ego could not help but think they were waiting for _her_.

"Are they doing this to me?" she asked.

"Yes." the Doctor replied gravely.

"How?"

He sighed.

"They are... hunting you. When they hunt someone, if there are enough of them, they have the ability, if they all focus on one single person, to weaken that person. To... catch them easily."

Clara gulped nervously.

"That wasn't in the books." she commented.

"Sorry." apologized Joanne. "But why do they want her?" she asked. "I mean, Edinburgh is a big city... Why her?"

Clara, who had not stopped looking out the window, turned slowly towards him.

"She's right. Why me?"

"Dementors are all... connected to each other, they're like a pack of wolves. What one sees, all of them see. The one we saw after we arrived must have found you very... appetizing. And so do all of them."

It made sense. Clara thought of the Dementor who attacked Joanne: it wasn't the same than the first one, yet the moment it saw her, it had immediately given up on Joanne.

"Brilliant. So... they want to give me a kiss?"

The Doctor sighed.

"Yes, Clara, apparently they want to kiss you. Seems like everybody wants to kiss you these days…. Why does everyone want to kiss you, _why_ do you have to be so _pretty_?" She was just about to respond, I mean really! She was not pretty!

_Clara... _

She flipped abruptly towards the glass, her nose pressed against it.

"What do you want?" she whispered.

Her blood ran cold again, and her legs started to shake.

_You know what we desire, Clara Oswald._

"Why me?"

_We have seen your heart, Clara, and we want it to be ours. We have seen your fears, your dreams and hopes. You are travelling with the last of the Time Lords. You have seen things people of your world would not believe, would not understand. You are a Child of Time, a threat, and you must be destroyed._

Clara did not consider herself a threat at all. But she assumed that these creatures were a little on the mental side so she didn't bother arguing.

"Okay, and what if I don't want to end up like a living-breathing vegetable?"

_Then every single people who comes between us, will die, and it will be your fault._

Clara gasped and instinctively took a step backwards. The Doctor was behind her, closer than she thought, and her back bumped into his chest. She bit her lower lip for the third time that day, trying to keep herself from clinging to his arms. Instead, she turned her head and met the worried gaze of Joanne Rowling.

"What's wrong honey?" asked the woman.

"What did they tell you, Clara?" the Doctor asked.

She could feel his breath on her neck. She ignored his question, and turned to Joanne:

"Is this street very popular? I mean, are there a lot of people who pass through it, at night?"

"Why is that important?"

"Just tell me."

"Well... Not really, no."

Clara let out a sigh of relief and put the palm of her hand on her forehead. Her head was starting to hurt again.

"Except maybe Mister Lovegood and his daughter, Luna, who live on the first floor, and always go eat Chinese food at 7:30 p.m. on Saturday nights, but..."

Clara froze and turned slowly to her.

"What day it is today?"

"Saturday, but I don't understand, Clara..."

Clara looked at the Doctor.

"What time it is?"

He checked his golden watch before replying:

"7 p.m..."

"Then I don't have much time. I have to get out of here." Clara said, trying to ensure that her voice did not tremble.

"What?" shouted out the Doctor. "Are you crazy? If you go out there, they'll pounce on you the second you step outside!"

She remained silent and kept her gaze on the floor. She had no idea how to explain to him, she didn't want to explain to him. She knew all his life had just been a long list of the people he had lost, and she was next on that list, whether now or later, it was inevitable. Of course, she didn't want to die, but she wouldn't let other people be slaughtered because of her, this was very, very clear in her head. But she was scared. Scared of causing the Doctor pain, because he simply didn't deserve any more.

"Or, that's exactly what you want..." he added.

He had understood, as always.

"I'm not sure what you're saying..." Joanne did actually have a guess, but she was hoping with all her might that she was wrong.

The Doctor didn't let Clara respond. He moved in front of her and softly held her face in his hands, both of his thumbs on her cheeks.

"Now, I need you to tell me _exactly_ what they said, Clara." he insisted.

The look on his face was terrifying. He was furious, and she had never seen him look so menacing. It was not the Doctor anymore, it was the oncoming storm.

"They are going to kill everyone that comes between me and them if I don't surrender..."

"Why do they want you?"

"Because... they said I was a child of time, a threat..."

The Doctor let go of her, and looked thoughtfully towards the window for a moment which seemed too long to Clara.

"You are not a threat," he finally spoke, "_I am_." "They are clever. They know I am the only one who can stop them, and they know that the only way to get to me, is through you."

"What?"

He turned back to her, anger visible in his voice:

"_You are my weakness, Clara!_ They know that if they destroy you, I won't be able to bare it!"

The words had escaped his mouth before he could control them. He gazed at her, unashamed, but fearful of her reaction. She was staring at him, with a shocked expression on her chocolate eyes, which soon filled with tears. Damn, she was getting emotional again. Was that a good sign? Was it bad? He didn't knew, until a sweet smile slowly appeared on her face.

"Go ahead then." she spoke. "Fight them off, chin boy."

He began to smile back at her.

His smile vanished when she collapsed on the carpet.


	4. The Love of a Mother

**Hello everyone! Ok, so just before you read, I just wanted to say_ thank you_ for all your lovely reviews! They really make me happy, I'm so glad you enjoy this story!**

**And as we are approaching the end, this chapter (and probably the next ones) will be shorter than the other ones, sorry about that, I hope you won't be dissapointed! **

**Here we go!**

* * *

Chapter 4 : The Love of a Mother

"Clara!" The Doctor cried as he and Joanne rushed to her side.

He kneeled down and put his hand under her neck, feeling her pulse and sighed with relief when he felt the –slow but existing– beating of her heart under the tip of his fingers. However, this time she was unconscious. Joanne ran a maternal hand through Clara's hair.

"Will she be ok?" she asked.

"Oh yes, Joanne Rowling, she will be fine. Because first, they can't kill her this way, just weaken her and second, they have just made me very, _very_ mad. Which probably wasn't the greatest idea because now I am going to destroy every single last one of them."

He had said this very calmly, nearly in a whisper, but his voice was so threatening that the whole roomed seemed to stand still.

"You won't do this alone." replied the woman.

He looked up from Clara to her. She seemed just as determined as he was and there was something blazing in the center of her eyes.

"They frightened my daughter." she whispered. "Nobody frightens my daughter."

The Doctor glanced at her with a grateful smile and looked back at Clara, putting his palm on her forehead. Her temperature was very low, she was chilled.

"There is still something I don't understand." said Joanne. "When one attacked us in the street earlier. Well, before you and Clara arrived, it was threatening us, but it couldn't touch us. Me and Jessica. I was really scared, so I didn't really stop to think but now that I'm thinking about it, I remember feeling like something was stopping it, like an invisible shield..." she explained, pacing back and forth in the room.

"Dementors absorb our most cherished memories and leave us with only with the worst of our life. But some feelings, or memories, are too strong for them, so they protects us. The dementors can't touch us. These memories or feelings are called_ Patronuses._ Like you said, they creates a sort of transparent shield around you, and it can keep other people safe, if they are close enough. Some people think they can even be used as a weapon, that they not only keep them away, but also destroy them, wipe them out. I've never seen it done... It was the love for your daughter that kept them away from you."

Joanne suddenly stopped walking and turned slowly towards him,

"Can a lot of people create them?" she asked quickly.

"Well, basically yes, they could, but they have to be very strong. Stronger than most…"

"And it can be used as a weapon?"

"I think this is pure imagination, but–"

"Don't underestimate imagination Doctor. Remind me, what time is it?"

He checked his watch again.

"7.11 PM"

"We must do this quick, then."

"Do what?"

"I have an idea. I can't tell you, if I tell you now, I'm not sure it will work. I guess you just need to trust me."

A determined smile appeared on her face and the Doctor stood up and looked at her doubtfully.

"What is that look for?"

"I don't trust you. _You_ are the reason I have trust issues."

"What? Me, why? What did I do?"

He exhaled and looked unfavorably at her, before yelling in an outraged voice:

"_You killed Dobby!_ I loved Dobby, Dobby was cool. How could you do that to him? He was my favorite character, aside from the Weasley twins... Oh, and speaking of the Weasley twins, you also k-"

"Could you _please_ stop spoiling my own books?" she interrupted him.

"Yeah, right, spoilers, sorry..."

"Doctor, we don't have time for this, we need to get outside! You will stay by me, so they won't be able to touch you, and I'm sorry, but you're going to have to carry Clara. She has to be with us."

"But she's unconscious!"

"But we need her, Doctor. _You_ need her."

He narrowed his eyes, and she looked at him without blinking, then looked quickly at Clara and looked back up at him again.

"It's obvious." she whispered.

He looked at her, lost, before replying:

"If we die doing this, I'm going to kill you."*

He carefully picked up Clara in his arms, and they left the flat, and headed down the stairs.

"Wait a second," said Joanne before knocking on a door.

An old woman opened, a cup of tea in her hand.

"Joanne! How are you, dear? Oh, look at you, still so skinny! I was just knitting a pullover for Jessica..."

"Mrs. Figg, I am sorry I can't talk or explain, I need you to take care of Jessica, it's important!"

"What? Do you have a... date?"

The old woman looked at the Doctor who was just down the corridor.

"Hmm, seems like a pretty young man you have here! What is he carrying, though? Is that... wait, is it a–"

"I'll explain to you later. Just watch over Jessica, please." said Joanne, giving her the key to her apartment before swiftly following the Doctor down the staircase.

Getting down the stairs with Clara in his arms was no easy task, it was very narrow and dimly lit, luckily Clara was as light as a feather. They finally arrived on the ground floor, which was the biggest room of the whole building. Their heels clicked on the hard ground, and resonated in the silence of the night. The hall was cold, and their breaths were creating fog when they exhaled. They stopped in front of the door, both gazing straight ahead with tense faces.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" asked the Doctor, who truly hated not knowing what was going to happen.

"No."

"Well let's find out. Use your imagination wisely." he said, before pointing the sonic at the door with his fingertips, his right arm under Clara's knees, and giving it a kick with his foot.

The door burst open and Joanne stepped in front of him. It was so cold outside that it took the Doctor's breath away for a second. The concrete, covered by a thick layer of frost, sparkled under the feeble and flickering lights. A crowd of hooded silhouettes were standing in front of them, silent except for a breathy _swoosh_ that they were making, as if there were hundreds of sick old men. Clara, still motionless, let out a plaintive whimper. Her body couldn't handle the presence of all the Dementors so close to her.

_« Hold on, Clara. » _he thought.

"They aren't moving." said Joanne. "Do you think it's working? That they can't touch us?" she asked.

"There is only one way to find out. We have to walk among them. If they can't get to us, they will move aside. If not... Well, after all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.*"

"Fine." she huffed. "Stay near me."

Joanne gulped nervously and clenched her fists. She stepped towards the Dementors, looking in front of her, head up, followed closely by the Doctor.

The Dementors parted to let her pass between them, as peasants would back up to let a queen walk among them. A victorious smirk appeared on the Doctor's lips as he pressed Clara tighter against him. Joanne was smiling too, relieved, but they didn't speak a word until they stood on the road, in the middle of the hooded crowd. The Dementors were surrounding them in a perfect circle, but not touching them.

"HAHA!" the Doctor let out, no longer able hold in his excitement.

Joanne turned back to him with a triumphant look.

"Oh, you!" exclaimed the Doctor. "I could hug you right now if my arms weren't full!"

"Let's save that for after." replied Joanne, walking towards him to take a look at the watch on his wrist. "7:28 PM! Doctor we must be quick!" _"Kiss her!"_


	5. Amor Vincit Omnia

Chapter 5: Amor Vincit Omnia

_"7:28 PM! Doctor we must be quick!" "Kiss her!"_

"_What?"_ shouted the Doctor, raising his eyebrows, astonished.

The Dementors were growing restless. They had been motionless the whole time, but now some were attempting to cross the invisible shield surrounding them, as if they could feel danger ahead.

"Kiss her!" she repeated, nodding impatiently in Clara's direction.

His jaw fell open and he blinked incredulously several times before shouting:

"_This is your plan? This is madness!" _

"You should feel at ease, then."

He opened his mouth to reply, but his outraged face finally turned into a half-amused and half-dismayed smirk as he briefly shook his head.

"Doctor?" she hurried him. "We can't just stand here and watch the grass grow!"

"We still have one minute. How did you came up with this?"

"Clara told me that it was the endorphins in the chocolate that make us feel better. If chocolate can make her well, what about a kiss? In many stories, a kiss is what breaks the curse, and maybe that's the reason why. Maybe it's just a chemical reaction from the human body. And then you told me about that weapon, an emotion that Dementors dread... It's love, isn't it? The only weapon strong enough to break any curse. I just used my imagination." she explained with a shrug, as if it were obvious.

He had never believed that theory, to him it was just impossible… but so was Clara.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because honestly, if you would have known, would we be here right now? Doctor, I'm a writer, my job is to observe people. Our only weapon is love, and it just so happens to be right here."

The Doctor looked as though he wanted to reply, but thought better of it.

"This is risky."

"This is also the only plan we have. _Now do it!_" she cried.

"Ok, but if it doesn't work, if for some reason, she doesn't love me like… well nevermind, but if your plan doesn't work, we are going to be responsible for two lives. I suggest you start thinking of something else too."

He gently laid Clara on the ground holding her up with his arm.

The Dementors seemed furious. They were jostling, trying to penetrate through the protective field, the silence was growing menacing.

The Doctor brought his face close to Clara's, resting his forehead against hers and said with a lopsided smile:

"I've always wanted to do this... "

And then in the softest whisper, he said, "_Geronimo."_

He closed his eyes, and his lips met hers, soft and gentle.

Nothing happened.

He grew desperate, their plan had to work, if it didn't there would be murder and he wouldn't let that happen. He crushed his lips against hers, putting all of his love, all of _him_ into that one kiss, and then suddenly she was responding and it was as if all the light in the world was exploding around them.

It swept through the crowd of shadows, sweeping them back. The Dementors let out enraged shrieks as the light seeped through their souls. They couldn't stand it. They were creatures of darkness and to have light thrust upon them, destroyed the nature of their being.

The Doctor brought his arm up to cup her cheek and Clara clung to the front of his shirt, their lips melding together until they had no more breath left to give.

All the lights in the street turned on at once, light streamed from inside the buildings, and the street lamps exploded with sparks. Sharp sounds, like croaks, could be heard from the fallen creatures.

"She is not your weakness, Doctor!" Joanne yelled with a triumphant smile. "_She is your strength!_"

The Doctor looked up and smiled as Clara slumped limply in his arms. The cold was gone, and the fog was thinning. When he looked around him, it seemed as though all the light in the world had come together, the moon was shining, no longer hidden by the clouds... And, in nine-hundred years, the Doctor had never seen the stars shine so bright.

He really didn't care about the stars, though. The only thing he cared about was one impossibly small girl curled up in his arms.

"Clara?" he whispered, picking her up.

A faint sigh escaped her, and her eyelids fluttered shut. She snuggled her head against his chest as one of her hands clutched his jacket.

Clara's vision was so blurry that all she could see was the light. _« Am I dead ? » _she thought. _« Is this the light at the end of the tunnel we are supposed to see? Or something like that? »_ She was relieved, because the cold and the pain were gone. Little by little, the shapes became clearer. She was not dead. The light she had seen was only the moon, but it was now hidden by an enormous...

"_Chin!"_ she gasped speechlessly, raising her head to look around her. They were in the middle of the street and there was no trace of the Dementors.

She looked up at the sky.

"Look at the stars, we can see the stars again! They are so bright!"

"I know. They're shining for you Clara." he said simply, helping her to stand up on her feet.

"But the Dementors... The fog... what happened?" she asked.

_That_, he would never tell her. His eyes met Joanne's, and they both shared a smile. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and defeating Dementors is one of them.*

"Let's get back to the TARDIS, shall we?"

Normally, Clara would have insisted that he explain everything to her, but she was growing tired and her eyelids were fluttering shut again. A small yawn escaped her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "I know I've been unconscious while you two have been off saving the world, but I feel like I just need to take a really long nap... for like... three years."

"That's okay Clara, _you helped us more than you think_." Joanne reassured her.

"Will you be able to walk?" the Doctor asked quickly, tightening his grip on her arms.

She looked up at him with a small smile, leaning her head to one side.

"Really, Doctor? I may be tired, but I'm not a baby."

"Right, sorry..." he muttered, before turning hastily to Joanne so Clara won't notice his embarrassment. "Are coming with us?"

"Where?" she asked.

"To the TARDIS. That's my ship." he said proudly, which made Clara smirk. "It's not parked too far. You can see it and... we can say goodbye." he added.

"You're leaving?" she asked, disappointed. "I thought you were staying in town..."

"We're time travellers. We never stay. But we are never be far behind, don't worry."

A sad smile appeared on her face, and the Doctor motioned for her to follow them. They all walked silently in the sweet night, each one of them letting their mind wandering.

Clara was wondering how on earth they had gotten rid of the Dementors and nothing she thought of was even close to what had actually happened. She was too exhausted to notice that the street lamps would shine brighter every time she and The Doctor passed under them.

The Doctor, was wondering how he was going to explain everything to Clara, without mentioning the bit about snogging her in the street.

Joanne was thinking about her daughter, knowing that tonight she would not have nightmares, thanks to these two people that loved each other much more than either of them could admit.

* * *

After walking for ten minutes, the Doctor and Clara stopped in front of the TARDIS. The Doctor leaned his elbow against the side of the box, and casually crossed his legs. Clara rolled her eyes with an exasperated smile.

"Show-off!" she smirked to herself. She knew how much he loved to impress people with his "snog box".

"But... That's just an old police box." said Joanne, surprised.

The Doctor had a boyish grin on his face, practically giggling with glee.

_« And here we go. » _Clara thought sarcastically.

He snapped his fingers, and with a slight creak, the door opened.

Joanne froze. She had probably stopped breathing too. She just blinked a few times, and covered her mouth with her hand.

"So..." started the Doctor, "what do y–"

"Shut up!" she told him, raising her forefinger to his face to silence him.

She slowly walked around the blue box, with her index still raised, and when she finally came back, she looked at them both and finally dropped her arms to her sides with a such theatrical movement that Clara burst out laughing.

"Come on in!" she encouraged her, entering inside the box herself.

The Doctor watched her with a smirk.

"Now who's showing off?" he muttered, as he stood besides Joanne.

They could see Clara near the console, who waved at them before hiding her mouth with her hand as she let another yawn escape.

Joanne stepped in slowly, and walked to the console, to finally stop near Clara. She turned around in a circle with her head raised and her mouth opened, eyes glowing with excitement. The Doctor, satisfied with her reaction, moved away to the other side of the console.

"Are you okay?" Clara asked. "I know it's a shock at first, but you get used to it, I guess."

"It's... bigger on the inside."

"And it travels through time." added Clara.

"And space!" added the Doctor, who just couldn't stop himself.

"So, he's really an alien..." she gulped. "And you're... from the future."

"That's right." replied Clara. "Everything we told you was the truth. Trust me, if we could have avoided telling you, we would have. We didn't know what was happening here when we came, and if we did we would have come sooner, I swear to you."

"But if you have all of time and space... Why come to Edinburgh, in 1995?"

"Because..." Clara started before biting her lower lip and staring at her feet for a moment.

"Because," she went on, "I wanted to meet you. So I asked the Doctor to take me here."

"Me? You wanted to meet me?"

Clara nodded with a slight smile.

"But..." Joanne shook her head. "Why?"

Clara put a hand on the console and ran the other through her hair before speaking.

"Because you gave me hope when I was hopeless, and I wanted to do the same thing for you."

On the other side of the console, the Doctor stopped moving and smiled. Joanne frowned.

"I gave you hope? But... how? We just met!"

"I know. But remember, I'm from the future. And if there's one thing that can travel through time, it's books."

The writer leaned her head to one side and narrowed her blue eyes, before a flash of understanding crossed them. She opened them wide and muttered:

"That's my books, right? That's my books that helped you?"

Clara, who found it hard to find the right words, nodded again.

"When my mum died," she explained calmly, "your books, your magical books, made me forget my sadness. So... thank you, for that."

Joanne shook her head again, visibly close to tears, and suddenly hugged Clara, who was not expecting it. She raised her eyebrows with surprise, and slowly, put her arms around her. Joanne gently rubbed her back, and for a brief moment, Clara remembered what it was like to be in a mother's arms. When she finally let go of her, Joanne's eyes were filled with tears, but she was smiling.

"Well, thank _you_, Clara. You did more tonight than give me hope, you also helped my daughter, and that is the greatest thing that you could have ever done for me."

Clara smiled and then laughed, wiping away a tear from her cheek. She took a deep breath and in an attempt to change the subject, she piped up:

"There's one more thing I wanted to tell you."

"Really? What?"

A childish grin appeared on Clara's face.

"Seven books, right?"

"Well, that's how I planned it, if it works out. Why?"

"Oh," said Clara innocently, "because there's going to be eight films."

Joanne's jaw fell as she stopped breathing, startled.

"_What?"_

"That's right!" the Doctor confirmed happily as he walked round the console and put his arm around Clara's shoulders. "I even acted in one, don't forget to cast me!"

"What?" Clara asked, looking up at him.

"Yeah! Why are you so surprised? In the fourth one, I played Barty Crouch Junior!"

Clara chuckled.

"No, you didn't. David Tennant did."

"Yes Clara, **D**avid-_**T**__en_nant, **D**octor-**T**ARDIS, _ten_th version of me, why are you so slow?!" the Doctor cried, visibly offended. He had put hard work into changing his usual earth-name "John Smith" into "David Tennant".

Clara raised her eyebrows and gazed at him with wide eyes, dazed.

"Well, it's too late for this, I think I should go to sleep." she said, shaking her head.

"Yes!" replied the Doctor cheerfully before placing a tender peck on the top of her head. "Go!"

Clara stepped in front of Joanne, who had put her hand on her forehead, her mouth still opened.

"Films!" she whispered. "It can't be, I don't believe you!"

"That's okay," Clara replied, putting a friendly hand on her shoulder. "As long as you believe in yourself."

Joanne looked at the hand on her shoulder and sighed sadly.

"So... I suppose this is goodbye?" she asked.

Clara nodded.

"Probably."

"Well. Good luck, Clara Oswald."

Clara smiled, and this time she was the one who leaned in. She put her chin on Jo's shoulder and closed her eyes, with that little girl smile still on her face.

"Take care of yourself." she said, letting go of her.

"I will."

They shared a last look, and Clara turned around then walked away to find her room. But before stepping into the corridor, she stopped and ran the tip of her fingers over her lips with a thoughtful look. Then she shook her head, as if trying to awake from a dream and started walking towards her bedroom.

Surprisingly, her room was easy to find, the TARDIS didn't hide it. Clara was even more amazed when she opened the door: her bedroom was not a simple room with white walls and a small bed anymore. The TARDIS had given her a whole new room, with a gigantic bed, a fluffy carpet, and even a fireplace where a warm fire crackled softly. On one side of the room, there was a desk, with Angie and Artie's laptop on it. The bed had red curtains, and there were paintings on the wall. Clara walked towards one of them, it was an older woman, hugging a little girl. She blinked. The painting was moving. She walked towards the bed, and saw neatly folded pyjamas on it. She looked up at the ceiling and joined her hands as if she were praying, then yelled to the TARDIS:

"You're the best spaceship in the entire universe. Thank you!"

Then she put her pyjamas on, and flung herself onto the cozy bed.

* * *

Meanwhile, Joanne and the Doctor, were saying goodbye.

"You're not going to tell her what happened out there," said Joanne. "are you?"

He stroked the back of his neck and replied:

"No. She doesn't need to know."

"But why?"

"Because," he sighed, "If she falls in love... in the end, it will only hurt her. _I_ will only hurt her."

"If she falls in love, I know you'll be there to catch her. And she's a big girl, Doctor; stronger than you think. If she can't handle a... Time Lord like you, I'm afraid nobody can."

"You don't understand. Bad things happen to the people I care about. I brought her here to keep her safe, but she's in constant danger with me, just look what happened tonight! I should let her go, but..."

He didn't finish his sentence.

"I think you're scared, because you know that the more you care, the more you have to lose.* But let me tell you something: it's _okay_ to be scared, Doctor. And it's also okay to be selfish, and to want to keep her with you. What would not be okay, would be to let her go, and to make you both miserable."

He looked at her for a moment, with a thankful smile.

"Good old J.K." he murmured.

"_J.K.?_"

Oops. Right, she hadn't even found her pen name yet.

"No!" he panicked. "Forget that! Erase it!... _Obliviate!_" he added desperately, making a weird gesture in her direction with his sonic screwdriver as wrinkles of surprise appeared on her forehead.

"I see..." she muttered.

The Doctor stared at his sonic with an offended look, as if it had betrayed him, and put it back in his right pocket.

"Hm, sorry."

"You never stop, do you?" she laughed.

"Never." he answered with a smile, proudly straightening his bow tie as she turned and walked to the TARDIS's door. But before stepping out, she looked at him for the last time and asked:

"You call yourself The Doctor. Why?"

"In the planet I'm from, we choose what we want to be called. The name you choose is a promise you must keep. Like an... _unbreakable vow_." he explained. "But I know you understand the power of names better than anyone."

"Do I?" she smiled.

He smiled back, and she walked out, closing the door behind her. The Doctor leaned against the console for a moment, his arms crossed on his chest, looking thoughtfully at the floor.

* * *

**Author's note:** Okay, just to warn you, _this is not the end_. Well in some way it is, because you won't see the Dementors again, but as for the Doctor and Clara, they still have some things to clear up in another chapter, so stay tuned :)


End file.
